


A Newer Hope

by Trees_Frogs_andPotentially_Treefrogs



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Jedi Leia Organa, Jedi Luke Skywalker, Multi, No Beta, POV Alternating, Tags will probably be updated, i don't want to spoil anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27769624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trees_Frogs_andPotentially_Treefrogs/pseuds/Trees_Frogs_andPotentially_Treefrogs
Summary: The Imperial Forces, commanded by Darth Vader, capture Leia, a padawan who's lost her master, desperately trying to squash out the efforts of the rebellion.  While learning to understand his own abilities with the Force, Luke Skywalker works with Han Solo and two strange droids to help free the princess, and aid her and the Rebel Alliance as they try to restore peace and freedom to the Galaxy.
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Good evening, my fellow frogs!
> 
> This is my first time writing for the Star Wars fandom, and I've been SUPER excited about this. Let me know if I didn't get some of the terms right, I think I got most of it, but I'm open to feedback. I'm hoping to do a rewrite of the entire original trilogy in this universe, because while I ADORE these movies, I thought I could lace in a few more characters, and further develop the ones I already love. Okay, that's all for now, and happy reading!

Shaking out her hands, Leia tried to find a more comfortable position to sit in. Her mind remained cloudy, not quite sure what to focus on, and she quickly grew frustrated with how much she was struggling with what she had been told was a simple task. She stood from where she’d tried to settle on the floor, pacing about her cramped cabin. When she arrived back on Yavin, perhaps she’d find more clarity, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying to do something now. After a few more circles around the room, Leia believed her head was clear enough to continue in her efforts, so she settled down on her cot. Slowly, She rolled her shoulders, letting her breath even out as her eyelids fall shut. Faintly, she began to feel it: on her mind’s horizon, she became aware of the tentative brush of vast energies, some light, some dark, and some determinedly ambiguous in their grey nature. This sensation began to encroach on her, and soon Leia was flooded with awareness of the Force, in all of its many forms, around her.

Determinedly, she tried to clear her mind of any frustrations, any fears, and perhaps most importantly, she worked to clear her head of any lingering ambitions. Slowly, she became aware that she was now a conduit for the Force, a being for it to pass through and around, and she leaned into this sensation. She became void of the residual pride from their successful collection of the plans to a most formidable weapon, void of eager anticipation that would accompany her journey back to the rebel base, and void of anxiety that would often shadow her memories of her master. With her awareness now heightened, and her intentions clear, Leia stretched her reach even farther, carefully taking note of every being that she could sense, and yet, not one of them was quite the one she’d set out to find. Slowly, Leia drew herself back to reality, trying to not let disappointment cloud her thoughts, and let her eyelids flutter back open. In the glaring lights of the Tantive IV, Leia tried to collect herself, urging herself to again find composure, before standing from her bed. In her humble defeat, Leia only let a few words slip into the empty cabin,

“Where are you, Master?”

\---

Leia was quick to brush herself off and get back to the bridge of her ship, carefully settling her flowing white hood over her head. She had to shake out her hands again on the way there, struggling to hide her frustration at her repeated failure. Six months ago, her master had left Alderaan, and by association, her, to head to a temple on Jedha. However, in her search of enlightenment, her master had run into trouble with more Imperial scum, discovering that most of the planet’s ancient and sacred temples were being stripped for Kyber crystals. Unable to expose herself and fight off the miners in the temples, her master had begrudgingly left to find other such temples that could give her further enlightenment. Enlightenment on  _ what _ specifically, Leia wasn’t sure, but she trusted her master’s judgement. However, there was one problem: Leia’s master had wandered into deep,  _ deep _ space while searching for the ancient temples, and on her journey to such mysterious, isolated regions, Leia had not only lost radio communication with her master, but their force connection, which was vital to the bond between every master and padawan, had grown oddly faint, leaving Leia doubtful and anxious, fearing for her master’s wellbeing.

Of course, Leia had no time to linger on her missing master, because as she made her way towards the bridge, her ship was jostled roughly out of hyperspace, the princess stumbling over the hem of her skirt, nearly crashing to the ground. Understandably confused, she stood up, eyes instantly focusing on the blaring alarm over her head. Concern wormed its way into her gut as she heard the sounds of the ship’s guns warming up, before lasers were shot out from the rear rifles, coupled with the hum of the deflector shields powering up. She thought that they had just escaped this mess: the empire shouldn’t be able to track them through lightspeed… unless they’d put a tracker on the ship. Leia shook her head, cursing her captain’s negligence, and taking a more balanced stance as the ship was shaken again. Distantly, towards the back entrance of the ship, she could hear the firing of blasters. Damn, this really wasn’t good, As steadily as she could manage, Leia darted back to her cabin. It was no mystery as to why these troopers were on her ship, but she wasn’t about to let the Empire know that she knew that. She took the long route, passing through storage rooms and service corridors that were hardly ever used, before she wound up at her cabin again. As silently as she could manage, she pressed her palm to the scanner, and slipped inside of the doors. She knelt down beside her cot, tapping about at the glossy metal wall beside it, before she found the loose panel, popping it open and grabbing the only copy that they had of the plans.

As thoughtfully as a frantic princess could, Leia considered her options. It’d be futile to hide the plans on her own person, surely the troopers would frisk her and find them if she were captured. Sending them with one of her crew in an escape pod wouldn’t do much good either; those Imperials probably had life-form sensors on their ships, and would destroy the pods without hesitation if they picked up on the readings on the pod. Leia quieted her groan of frustration as she crept back out through the automatic doors of the room, slipping back through the halls until she neared the sounds of blaster fire. She may not have had a plan, but it was best that she waited near the escape pods, in case an opportunity presented itself. Cautiously, she closed off her presence in the Force as best as she could, not wanting to risk being detected by anyone or anything, before nearing another storage closet. She crawled to the back of it, desperately trying to ignore the shouts of crewmates behind her, before she found a small hatch, and opened it. It was just barely big enough for her to crawl through, and lead her right into the escape pod bay. She sighed in relief, finding herself alone, but not far from the action outside. A few meters away, near the main entrance to the bay, the bright red light of blaster fire reflected off of the sheer floors, and Leia wasn’t eager to go any closer to those dangers than she had to.

Just as the princess began to relax back into her isolated little corner behind a wall which jutted out around the entrance to a pod, she heard footsteps near the entrance to the pod bay. She held her breath, curling herself into the most inconspicuous form she could manage, and waited, her blaster close on hand. The voice she heard was brisk and mechanical, and clearly nervous. After a moment of contemplation, Leia realized that these weren’t enemies, but rather startled droids who’d come to hide from the fighting outside. Even with her sensitivity suppressed, Leia could tell that someone was coming, one with a long shadow cast into the Dark Side of the Force, so she could understand the droids’ urgency to hide, even if they may not understand the danger that they were about to be in. Still, they were likely her best option for getting a plan to make sure that this information survived this battle, so she crept out from where she’d hidden herself.

“Artoo, look out!” A protocol droid, clad in brilliantly shiny gold finish, pointed right at Leia, its voice trembling in terror. The droid beside it, and R2-unit, beeped something in frustration, pointing out that no, it wasn’t an enemy, but their princess. 

“I- I… oh you majesty, I’m so terribly sorry. I thought- thought you were someone else and I… oh well, this is most embarrassing.” Leia glanced at the simpering droid as she drew herself up to her full height, letting her hood fall around her shoulders, before furrowing her brows.

“For trying to hide right now, you sure do draw a lot of attention,” she hissed, trying to keep their location hidden. The droid, which glittered even under the low, emergency lights of the room, looked about, as if confused who the princess was addressing. After a moment, it asked,

“What, do you mean  _ me _ ?” It’s voice nearly echoed around the tight space of the bay, getting a sharp, hushed whistle of reprimand from the much smaller droid beside it. It finally offered a quiet, “oh” before turning back to Leia, where she’d moved to lean back behind the shallow wall obstructing them from view.

“I must say, I’m terribly sorry about all that, but I’m C3PO, human-cyborg relations, at your service, your majesty.” The R2-unit beside him offered a cheery, if not cautious, introduction itself, and Leia smiled at them both. Perhaps she’d be able to make it out of this.

**\---**

Leia fished out her blaster and the plans for the Death Star from deep inside of a concealed pocket in her ethereal dress. She laid the defender sporting blaster to the side, but still within an easily accessible range, before triumphantly holding up the plans. She backend R2-D2 over, pleased to see the little droid’s enthusiasm at the prospect of getting to help her out. It seemed… familiar. Something about its communication patterns, or perhaps its coloration, caused something hidden deep within her memories to stir. As she slipped the plans inside of the droid, she tried to hold onto hope.

“I sure hope this works,” her voice wasn’t quite doubtful, per se, but it didn’t hold the same confident, powerful command that it usually did. R2 offered a supportive series of blips and whistles, trying to ease her weariness.

“I’m not sure where we could send you, though.” Leia offered thoughtfully.

“Princess, the data pad says that we’re not too far from a planet called Tatooine, and I’m sure we could work something out there or another one of these outer-rim planets.” C3PO mentioned. Desperately, Leia wracked her brain to see if the name “Tatooine” held any significance to her, but honestly, she couldn’t remember  _ ever _ learning of that name. However, in front of her, R2-D2 burst into an excited series of chirps and whistles, finally calming down to spit something out to the protocol droid beside them.

“It seems that Artoo remembers something about this planet, something about an old master of his.”

“Old master?” Leia asked cautiously.

“Yes, your majesty, Artoo fought in the Clone Wars beside General Kenobi, and apparently, something in his memory indicates that the General might be living on this Tatooine.”

“Kenobi?” Said the princess, suddenly excited. She’d heard about Master Obi-Wan from her own master, and now her interest was peaked. If they could make sure that the plans reached the hands of another Jedi, the resistance would not only be able to find the plans to the Death Star, but may even gain another powerful ally.

“Artoo, if you were down on that planet, do you think that you could find your old master?” The small droid clicked indignantly at her, but was quick to assert that he would be able to find his old master in no time.

“Wonderful. Do you think that you could record a message for me?”

\---

Leia hastily finished up recording her message, and just as she pushed a button to store it to R2’s memory, she heard the crisp, emotionless murmuring of stormtrooper code over an intercom. Hastily, she snatched up her blaster, ushering the droids into the pod, readying them for escape as she moved her blaster out of the “stun” configuration. As she heard the pod doors seal behind her, and the soft hiss of the small ship being released from its bay, Leia took up a position in the center of the cramped room, her burnt umber eyes glistening with anticipation. Leia let them fall closed, opening herself up to the Force again, reaching out in preparation for any intruders, and taking notice of the greater dangers that lay beyond. 

Just as she expected, she found the presence of the dreaded Darth Vader within her ship, and could detect the sluggish, melancholy movement of the Force around the dead littered about the Tantive IV. Even more immediately, she noticed the stormtroopers advancing on her position. She readied herself for them, letting her eyes fly open as the sounds of their marching grew near, and set her jaw in determination. At the first flash of white, she open fired. She took out the first three with little problem, silently thanking her father for making her spend hours shooting at can-cells and other insects back on Alderaan. The fourth managed to nick her shoulder with a poorly aimed blast, and she yelped in pain. Her hand fumbling on her blaster, Leia managed to hit the trooper’s helmet, hoping it was enough to keep them subdued for now. She dashed out of the room, trying to figure out the fastest way to the emergency subspace transceiver now that the main port to it was open. Still, she didn’t have much time to wonder about it, because the resounding rattle of a stun fire being shot at her caught her attention. She whipped around, the hand occupied with her blaster much slower this time, the other one dashing out towards the lone stormtrooper, who stood confused in the doorway behind her. In a moment of instinct, Leia became confused. She knew she  _ could _ blast back this Imperial cronie with no effort, but feared the effects it would have on her Force presence. As the princess questioned her morality, the trooper suffered no such qualms, and shot her straight in the chest, stunning her form. Leia was quickly disoriented, thrown off balance, her vision and hearing becoming dark and foggy, like she’d been muted from the world, but carefully, she allowed her spirit to turn inwards, and reach out through the Force as her prone body was dragged towards the bridge. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up with where we left off, we follow Luke Skywalker as he gains possession of two new droids on the desolate world of Tatooine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my fellow frogs!  
> Behold! Another chapter is here! To be honest, I have no idea what my updating schedule will be like, but I'll try and do it as often as I can. As always, I'm open to feedback, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Happy reading!

Luke sighed, shaking his head free of the sleep that still clouded his foggy head. He was up early, so early that the first sun still had yet to raise its pale golden head from behind the crisp outlines of the endlessly flat horizon. Uncle Owen had wanted someone to check up on a faltering vaporator on the edge of their property. Of course, Luke was the one who was shoved out of bed at a most unreasonable, dark hour, and had to scramble out into his speeder, and drive, only half-conscious, to the machine. Now that he’d reached it, Luke had decided to wait until at least the first sun rose before he got to work: trying to do anything under the inky denim-blue cloak of pre-dawn was rather useless to him. In these moments before the suns would begin to set the already dry world of Tatooine ablaze, Luke felt as if he were the only being awake on the entire planet. In some regards, this gave him a sense of deeply satisfying feeling of independence, knowing that he may be the only person awake within miles, and in other ways, Luke felt desperately lonely, some part of his inner being becoming desolate and empty in his solitude. For now, he felt the former, with some sense of accomplishment in his early rising. When compared to what was available during the boiling midday, the air that flooded his lungs was rich with moisture, and such a relief on his usually bone dry lungs. In his exhaustion, Luke allowed himself to slump against the vaporator, his eyes drearily slipping shut.

Maker, Luke couldn’t wait to get off of this damn planet. Sure, he was happy that his aunt and uncle had taken him in, and he was confident that there were worse planets to be stuck on, but Tatooine couldn’t be much better than the worst of them. The best way for Luke to pass the time was to work, and work, and work, because that was all that his uncle expected him to do. It wasn’t that Luke minded helping out with his uncle, but he really needed friends. Biggs had left for the academy about six months ago, and Luke had been left to just sit in the canyons, alone and disappointingly quiet. He’d taken up shooting womp rats when he could, even if it was a bit dangerous. Luke wasn’t really the type to “live dangerously”, per se, but at this point, his boredom left him no other option. Besides, he was good at what he did, always able to anticipate the moves of the womp rats, and good enough at considering his conditions and surroundings that he hardly ever ran into any Tusken Raiders. Luke would like to consider himself talented, but his uncle liked to attribute any of his success to luck. He knew, though, that if he could test into the academy and make a life for himself, Uncle Owen wouldn’t be able to blame luck for his achievements any more.

Slightly, through the thin curtains of his eyelids, Luke could feel the first sun rising. He made sure to keep his lashes low over his eyes, not wanting to damage them under the brilliant glare of the first sun while the second still had to reveal its crimson body. Reluctantly, he drew himself back to reality, stretching his arms over his head as he prepared to inspect the vaporator. The monotony of these tasks was really getting to him, but Luke promised himself that he’d still do a good job despite. Slowly, with whatever little motivation he could scrape up, Luke began to inspect the vaporator. 

\---

By the time that Luke had finished rewiring the cooling system in the vaporator and made his way back home, it was well past midday. Aunt Beru was leaning in the doorway to the settlement’s opening, a tired smile painting her worn face. 

“Luke,” she said in her soft, wavering voice. “Your uncle said that there’s a sandcrawler coming in today. You should go with him, see if there’s any droids that’ll get you out of here faster, you know.” Luke smiled back at her. Aunt Beru knew he wanted to go to the academy, and encouraged his ambitions. Uncle Owen didn’t understand why he wanted to get off of Tatooine so badly, but Aunt Beru shared in his cravings of freedom. They all knew that Luke could go to the academy this year, in fact, they had enough hands to be able to send him off  _ last semester _ , but Uncle Owen thought that he would benefit from the “life skills” he earned from working on the farm. 

‘Really though,’ Luke had thought to himself many times, ‘What am I going to learn on a moisture farm that’s going to help me once I get to the core worlds?’ Aunt Beru often shared in his sentiments. Still, his uncle was convinced that Luke needed to help him through this next harvest, as well as assist in obtaining more helpful droids to strengthen their production. 

“Sure, I’ll help him. We’ll probably need some kind of mech droid, all those vaporators out on the south side of the property keep faltering, I don’t know how many more early mornings I want to do.” His aunt smiled at that, something like remorseful laughter sneaking out from her lips, before she resumed her usual stance, her face falling impartial, her eyes drifting to the watery blue sky over Luke’s shoulder.

“You should probably come in now, Uncle won’t be happy if you’re any later than you already are.” Luke sighed, but entered the structure despite his reluctance. All he knew was that he needed to hold on to hope, and pray that his resilience would allow him off this sand ball one day.

\---

As the twin suns hung just above the desolate horizon, Luke scampered up the steps after his uncle, Aunt Beru calling after him.

“If you get a translator, make sure it speaks Bocce!” Outside the shelter, Luke’s uncle grumbled some sort of frustrated affirmation, becoming him to come out faster. As Luke was plunged into the waning daylight, his eyes fixated on the towering sandcrawler parked a few meters away from their dwelling. Even if this was a fairly routine process, Luke couldn’t help but the excitement that bubbled up inside of him: Luke really liked to work on droids. It was far more rewarding than repairing the vaporators or fiddling around with the power converters, and Luke got freerange to do whatever he wanted. If he were to be so bold, Luke could even relate his work to art, what with all of the emotion and effort that went into reviving the mechanical beings. He knew that Uncle Owen hated to buy stuff in disrepair, because he always said, “why should I spend my money on something that doesn’t even work?” Still, Luke enjoyed the process, and found his work grounding. 

When he dashed out to catch up with his uncle, Luke’s attention was quickly drawn away to the mechanical wonders lined up alongside the hulking, rusted crawler. While Uncle Owen discussed pricing with the jawas, Luke wandered between the different droids lined up, weighing their balance of intrigue and quality of each bot in his mind. After he’d observed most of the stock, his uncle called him over.

“What’d you find, kid?” Luke had to bite his tongue at that: he was really sick of his uncle calling him that. He’d just turned nineteen, and he’d be going off to the academy soon if he was lucky, and he certainly wasn’t just some  _ child _ . Still, he walked over to his uncle’s side, pointing out a protocol droid on the far end.

“That one, over there. It looks to be a protocol droid, and it’s in pretty good shape, just has a bit of carbon scoring.” Uncle Owen grunted in consideration, turning to walk up to the glittering figure.

“You a translator?” he spat out.

“Why certainly, sir! I know over-”

“You speak Bocce?”

“Yes, of course sir, I’ve-”

“Great, do you speak the binary language of vaporators?”

“Certainly, it’s like a second language to me, my primary program was to-”

“Okay, that’s great.” Uncle Owen turned behind him to call out to the swarming Jawas. “I’ll take this one, how much is it?” The Jawas at his ankles chittered together before negotiating a price. Uncle Owen shook his head a couple of times, muttering to them a few times, before finally handing over a few credits. Ignoring the small beings who scattered excitedly at his feet, the man turned to Luke, calling out,

“We need anything else?”

“Yeah, maybe one of those astromech droids, we need more hands to repair those faltering vaporators.” His uncle’s brow furrowed, and he turned back to look up the line of droids available to them.

“You know those’re kinda expensive right?” Luke nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “but it’ll be worth it in the long run. They sure are good with any sort of machine.” After a moment of consideration, and muttering to the Jawas who’d come back to his side.

“Which one, kid?” Exasperated, Luke sighed.

“Maybe the red one? It’s got a good looking welder that could come in handy.” Uncle Owen grunted again, muttering to the Jawas again. He seemed frustrated, but they finally seemed to reach an agreement, and Luke called the droids over as he made his way down to the settlement. There wouldn’t be too much work to do on these machines, but Luke would still be able to tinker with them and get them in better working order. He was feeling confident in his ability to do any repairs on the two, at least, until a loud hissing sound arose behind him. Luke whipped around in time to see the cap of the motivator on the droid be blown off, and the entire compartment inside of the robot exploded. The wires sparked and fizzled, scorching the cream colored metal that lined the damaged section, and Luke groaned.

“Uncle Owen, this R2-unit’s got a bad motivator!” Eyebrows furrowing, his uncle whipped back around to the receding Jawas.

“Hey!” he called after them. “What’re you trying to pull on us, huh? Your product just exploded.” Shaking his head, he turned to frown at the damaged droid. Suddenly, Luke became aware of the protocol droid prodding his shoulder. He turned to stare at the golden figure.

“Excuse me sir,” he began in his crisp, mechanical accent. “But that blue one is in good shape, and should be familiar with the repair functions of typical vaporator technologies.” Luke hummed in consideration.

“D’you know them?” The golden bot seemed to hesitate, his tone turning nervous as he responded.

“Yes, sir. I’ve worked with him for quite a while before this. I can assure you that they’d be a quality investment.”

“Yeah, alright,” Luke turned back to his uncle. “Uncle Owen! How about the blue one?” Uncle Owen glanced between Luke, the Jawas, and the droid a few times before grumbling to the hooded figures around him,

“How much for the blue one.”

\---

“Oh thank the maker, this oil bath is going to feel  _ so _ good.” Luke sighed, and finished lowering the protocol droid into the oil. He turned away from the glittering mechanical figure, looking at his workbench. He slumped into a stool that was set in front of the surface, letting his hands drift out to cradle an old, damaged Skyhopper model. Distantly, he heard the two droids quietly converse, but Luke’s mind was off in the stars: he was sick of being trapped on what had to be the most desolate planet in the galaxy. These two droids clearly came from some sort of star cruiser, what with all they spoke about. Luke felt obligated to do something for his ailing galaxy: the tight fist of the Empire had strangled the already struggling outer-rim worlds for long enough, but Luke knew that he couldn’t do much while he was stuck on this sandbox of a planet. Carefully, his worn fingers traced the edges of the old model. His uncle had told him that his father had owned a model just like it when he was young, and Luke couldn’t help but treasure his own. The ship was old, and the edges of the fins had chipped in some places, but it kept Luke focused in his most frustrated times. All Luke had to do then was hold on for a little longer, and he’d finally get to fly off this damned place. For now, though, Luke had to focus on these droids, so he pushed himself from the stool, kneeling down before the astro-mech. He rolled up his draping sleeves up as far as they could go, wrench in hand as he got to work scraping off any carbon scoring. Luke wilted a little where he worked, and the protocol droid seemed to take notice of this.

“What’s wrong, sir?” he inquired. Luke shook his head, almost eager to avoid the subject.

“Is there anything I can do to help you, sir?” Luke shook his head again, shoulders slumping.

“Not really, not unless you can alter time, speed up the harvest, or teleport me off this rock.” The droid looked at him quizzically.

“I’m sorry sir, but that’s not one of the functions I was programmed with. As a droid, I’m not very knowledgeable on such things, this planet isn’t one that’s very well documented in my memory.” A small smile crept up on Luke’s face, and he laughed quietly before turning back to the R2-unit in front of him.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. If you were looking for the bright center of the universe, you’re on the planet farthest from it.”

“I see, sir. Well, considering our circumstances, perhaps that’s a good thing.”

“Oh, um, you can call me Luke, you know.”

“Ah, I see sir Luke.” Luke laughed at that, leaning back on his heels while he snickered, and the droid watched with confusion.

“No, no,  _ just _ Luke, please.” He set down his wrench, getting up to walk over towards the oil bath, offering his soft, human hand to the droid’s metallic, scratched up one.

“I’m C-3PO, human-cyborg relations, and my counterpart over there is R2-D2.” Tentatively, the droid clasped Luke’s hand in his own. Luke grinned, walking back to Artoo. He shifted to the other side of the droid this time, dutifully scraping away around the worn metal parts. 

“You two seem to have a lotta carbon scoring, I bet you’ve seen a lot of action.” Threepio nodded from where he rested.

“Yes, with all we’ve been through, I’m often surprised that we’re not just a lump of scrap metal, what with the rebellion and all.” Luke’s wrench clattered out of his hand.

“You’re with the rebellion, the rebellion against the empire?” Luke’s sky-blue eyes glittered in awe. 

“It’s how we came to be in your service, sir, if you know what I mean.”

“Wow, have you been in many battles?” The droid considered for a moment, reviewing his memories before offering,

“Several, I think. Really, there’s not much to tell, I mainly serve as an interpreter, and Artoo hasn’t been out in a fighter class ship in months. I tell more stories than I participate in.” Luke nodded, briefly lost in his work. He grunted in frustration, before saying,

“For not seeing a lot of battles, you sure have a lot of debris crammed into your metal.” Artoo beeped at him appreciatively, happy to get this grime off of him. Still, Luke was struggling with getting this one rock out, and set down his wrench, walking over to the workbench to retrieve a more acute pick. He settled back in front of the droid, carefully prying the rock out.

“What is this?” Luke wondered aloud. “Have you been on a cruiser, or-” Suddenly, with a final push, Luke had dislodged the fragment with a loud click, and a soft beam of light appeared to his side. Curious and surprised, he turned to watch it. After a few moments, the projector had composed itself, and the image of a woman appeared. She held herself with firm composure, but her desperation was clear. In fact, if Luke listened hard enough, he could detect the sounds of blaster fire in the background of the recording. Curiosity outweighed his work ethics, and he sat back for a moment to watch the recording.

As the blue light briefly clicked off before repeating the same blip of the message over and over again, Luke couldn’t help the concern that crept into the corners of his mind.

“Hey, who’s that?” Artoo remained silent, and Luke turned to C-3PO, staring at the other droid quizzically. He proceeded to look between the human crouched on the floor, and the soft blue hologram beside him before turning his head away, too.

“I think it’s best if I let Artoo explain this one.”

“C’mon Artoo, who is she?” Finally, the droid beeped back to him in response, but his words were quickly ushered out, before he proceeded to ignore Luke. The boy sighed in exasperation, before turning to the protocol droid, who had just been raised out of the hot tub of oil. The droid sighed reluctantly.

“She’s a person of great importance, but I’m not sure if I should tell you.” Luke groaned at that.

“Really, you can tell me! Look around us, what am I going to do, let a bantha know?” Still, neither droid offered him any answers.

“It’s… sir, I- oh, Artoo, you can trust him, you tell him!” Artoo, however, was even more reluctant. He stayed silent where he sat. Frustrated, Luke tried something else.

“Is there any more of this recording?” The R2-unit backed away at that, squeaking at Luke in a most affronted tone. The astro-mech continued this pattern, telling the other droid something in frantic clicks and whistles. Threepio made an exasperated noise behind him,

“He says that this is a private message for Obi-Wan Kenobi, he knew the- he knew her. I’m not sure what he’s talking about, though, our last owner was Captain Antillies.” 

“Well,” began Luke. “I can’t say that I know any Obi-Wans, but there’s old Ben Kenobi up beyond the dune sea, maybe that’s who he’s talking about.” Threepio considered this.

“Do you really think that you could know him?” Luke shrugged from where he sat.

“It could be worth a try. Besides, whoever this is looks important, and I really wouldn’t want to keep them from anything too important. Really, though, if they’re in trouble, don’t you think I could play back the message? I just wanna help.” After a brief silence, Artoo spoke up again, and C-3PO translated for him.

“He says that the restraining bolt short circuited his system, and that removing it could clear up the problem.” It didn’t take Luke long to consider his options, grabbing his wrench again.

“Yeah, okay. I guess you’re too small to run off on me, anyways.” Carefully, with a loud pop, Luke pried off the bolt, but was frustrated to see that, as it clattered to the ground, the blueish recording disappeared. Luke furrowed his brows, gesturing wildly as he said,

“Hey, where’d she go? Bring her back, c’mon!” Artoo beeped innocently, and the other droid tapped his head with embarrassment. 

“What do you mean, ‘what message’, you know exactly what we’re talking about!” In his frustration, Luke tried to figure out what else he could do to fix this. Honestly, he didn’t have much experience in repairing holographic message projectors, but he was sure that he could figure something out. However, before he could determine his next course of action, a voice cut through his thoughts.

“Luke?” Aunt Beru called from up in the homestead. “Luke! Come up for dinner.” Reluctantly, Luke stood from the ground, tossing the wrench and bolt onto the bench, turning to spare a glance at the droids.

“See if you can get him to play back the message, yeah?” The protocol droid nodded, before turning to mutter at his counterpart as Luke rushed from the room.

\---

Luke sighed as he scampered back down the stairs, before pausing at the bottom. He could have sworn that he’d left the droids right here… Carefully, he clicked a control box strapped to his belt, scanning the room, until the shiny protocol droid stood from where he’d been hiding, sputtering indignantly. 

“What’re you doing back there? Hey, where’d Artoo go?” The droid continued to fumble over his words before turning to Luke again, sheepish.

“I promise it wasn’t my fault sir! He kept yammering on about his mission, and his duty, and all this other nonsense, and I tried, I  _ tried _ to stop him, but I turned my back for one minute, and he’d gone!”

“Shit, that can’t be good.” Behind him, Luke could hear the droid spitting out apology after apology, but it didn’t really matter right then. As Luke emerged in the dying light of the suns, all his concerns were focused on that little droid. Desperately, he scanned the horizon with the electrobinoculars he’d snatched on his way out the door, only to cement the sinking feeling of dread he’d had before: R2-D2 was nowhere in sight.


End file.
